Pulling At His Strings
by QueenOfDarkComedy
Summary: Chucky and Tiffany pay Psychs a visit. It doesn't end well...for Psychs. (One-Shot) Rated M for violence & gore.


Psychs slowly opened his eyes. Everything was a little blurry at first; namely the two doll individuals standing right in front of him.

"Rise and shine, asshole." Chucky poked Psychs with his long, sharp kitchen knife, drawing blood from his cheek.

Psychs became fully aware rather quickly, eyes widening, he pulled at the chains. All four limbs were hooked to the ceiling and the floor. There was no escaping.

"Hey! What the bloody fuck—" Psychs had a pretty good idea who these two dolls were. He continued to struggle with the chains. It was no use. "Let me outta 'ere!"

"Wrong!" Chucky yelled. Then laughed his infamous laugh. "So _you're_ the infamous ***Psychotic Psychs***. Pretty tacky name, don'tcha think?"

"Pathetic." Tiffany added, a smirk formed on her face.

Psychs looked from Chucky to Tiffany.

"What do you want from me?" asked Psychs.

"Funny you should ask that question." Tiffany started.

"I'm sure you've heard of us." Chucky added. "I'm Chucky, and this is Tiffany."

Psychs through his head back and chuckled. "Ehe….Oh I get it. You're 'Shit-Faces' real parents. You're a little late, don'tcha think? Little fucka ran away from me years ago. I spent three years in prison because of that cretin."

"GLENNNN!" Chucky slashed Psychs across the cheek; he winced." His _name_ is Glen, you asshole!"

"What kind of a sicko names a child such a horrible name?" Tiffany rhetorically asked.

"And we know he ran. He found us shortly after. I always wondered where that English accent came from…" Chucky lost himself in thought for a second.

"How is the little piece of shit?" asked Psychs.

"_Glen _is doing pretty well, considering…"

"_Considering_….?" Psychs sarcastically asked.

"Considering he's traumatized by you." Tiffany put her hands on her hips. "And now you're going to pay."

"Considering you used our kid as a puppet to make money off of, we're here to teach you a lesson on what it's really like to be someone's puppet."

Psychs smirked rather smugly. "You wouldn't dare. If you're anything like that crotchless freak, I don't think you got it in ya."

Chucky and Tiffany exchanged glances. They couldn't contain their laughter. Chucky's eyes were almost watering he was laughing so hard. "Oh, you don't know us _at all_." Chucky wiped a tear away.

"Who is this fucking guy?" Tiffany could not believe what she was hearing.

"A dead one." Chucky's tone turned deadly. "I guess he didn't hear about the urban legends back in the states."

Psychs looked a little puzzled. "I'm not sure I follow…"

"They even made a movie about us," Tiffany reminisced, arms swaying. "Jennifer Tilly played me!"

"Of course, that was around the time Glen found us." Chucky reached for a large carving tool under a red velvet table cloth, hiding more underneath it of course. He admired it in front of Psychs.

Psychs looked around the room for something he could reach to break free. He pulled up at the chain that was hammered into the concrete.

"Oh, I wouldn't count on escaping anytime soon. That chain is welded into reinforced steel." Chucky observed.

"We made damn sure of that," Tiffany giggled.

"Yes, we did, pumpkin." Chucky and Tiffany embraced with a kiss.

"You see, Psychs…" Chucky ripped the red velvet tablecloth off a nearby table, revealing various sharp carving and medical tools underneath it.

"Oh fuck!" Psychs squirmed.

"…I'm no Dexter or doll maker. But I will tell you one thing—"

Psychs spat in Chucky's face.

"Ehe…." Chucky wiped it away, and continued. "I'll tell you one thing: I am a doll. So I know a thing or two about the way people handle dolls."

"The way they toss you..."

"…And slam your body parts into the trunk of a car."

"Not to mention cooking you in an oven!" Tiffany added.

"Or throwing one into an industrial fan….or cutting off ones legs…or melting them in toxic, molten plastic."

"It's not very nice what people do to dolls is it, Sweetface?" said Tiffany.

"Not at all!" replied Chucky excitedly. "So '**Psychs****'**, you're in for a treat because we're going to show you what it's like to be treated exactly like someone's puppet."

Psychs chuckled nervously. "You gonna kill me?"

"We're going to do a lot worse than that," answered Tiffany.

"Your death will be slow…and painful." Chucky added. He and Tiffany laughed.

"When we're done with you, you're going to be transformed into something not even you'll recognize."

"Wait." Psychs pleaded.

"Hold still." Chucky laughed.

"Wait!" Psychs screamed.

Tiffany pulled out some duct tape.

"WAIT! You can't do that! You can't-Mmmmfffmfffmffff!"

Tiffany taped Psychs mouth shut.

"Now, Tiff here is really good with stitching and reattaching limbs. I pretty much have down the 'carving flesh out with a knife' part. So I believe we'll make a pretty good team."

Chucky grabbed a needle out of his overalls. "Unfortunately, we can't operate with you squirming around like a psychotic fish."

Chucky stabbed Psychs in the stomach with the needle. His struggles get calmer as the tranquilizer sets in.

A few hours went by…

Chucky was toying with something he had stuck into Psychs back. It was a lever of some sort. "Is the mouth moving, Tiff?"

"From all sides." Tiffany answered as she continued to reattach a severed arm to a string that was attached to the rest of the arm, like puppet limbs joints attached and strung together by nothing but twine.

Later, Chucky and Tiffany stood from a distance, looking up, admiring their work.

"I think it's our best kill yet." Tiffany said to Chucky.

"You know, pookey…I think you're right." Chucky put his arm around Tiffany and kissed her on the cheek. She giggled.

"Let's go home." Tiffany smiled.

"And tell Glen the great news!" Chucky added.

"Uh…actually…I don't think that's a very good idea."

Tiffany and Chucky walked out of the room, leaving the limp, grotesque puppet-like body of Psychs behind. They had cut off all of his limbs, and reattached them together by strings, put a lever in his back, and stitched the edges of his mouth in the shape of what a ventriloquist dummy would look like.

His body hung there, literally hanging by several strings. It would be some time before anyone found him. The place was pretty remote.

Glen would never know what had become of Psychs. It was probably better that way.


End file.
